


Baby come back

by alinewrites



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:59:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5797819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinewrites/pseuds/alinewrites





	Baby come back

Avon opened the door and frowned.

"Blake."

That was the annoying thing with Avon. Nothing ever surprised him. Or if it did, he never showed.

"Good evening, Avon," Blake said, waiting, wondering if maybe Avon wasn't alone; if he was living with someone.

"Are you alone and will you let me in?"

Avon sighed and blinked wearily.

"Yes and maybe. What do you want, Blake? It's been only three years and four months."

"I don't remember our agreement extending to a no-visit period."

Avon shook his head.

"Of course. It would be too much to ask of you that you let me live my life quietly. Did you come alone?"

"I left the unavoidable bodyguards downstairs, in the shuttle. If you let me in I'll tell them to pick me up later."

Avon stepped aside. "Typical," he muttered and Blake walked into the apartment and looked around. For a wealthy man Avon curiously had very Spartan tastes; the place was barely furnished. Blake hoped there would be a bed somewhere, then chastised himself for the thought. He'd be *very* lucky indeed if Avon didn't kick him out after listening to him. Maybe taking Avon to bed first would work better? But then Avon wouldn't forgive the attempt at manipulation. No bed. That would have to wait.

"You look good," Blake said, sincerely, to the man standing barefoot and clad in black trousers and sweater in front of him. Avon had beautiful feet, Blake mused; he wanted to run his thumb along their high arches.

"Well you don't. What's wrong?"

You could always rely on Avon to dampen anyone's enthusiasm. He didn't look angry though, Blake realized. Just wary and uncertain, and maybe a little resigned.

"Let me guess," Avon said, "You came to tell me that you’ll be running for another term after all because your rabble just can't let go of you. Am I right?"

Shaking his head, Blake looked around.

"May I sit down and enjoy a last drink before you unleash your fury?"

He saw Avon close his eyes briefly, as if in pain.

"I'd rather you left now, Blake."

Blake didn't answer that; he had no intention to leave. He sat down, trying not to let the exhaustion show, and after a moment Avon brought out a bottle of something amber and a glass before sitting down as well.

"I keep it for Vila," Avon said "so please don't drink it all; it's awfully expensive."

Avon observed Blake's trembling fingers around the glass and the way he downed the liquor.

"Happy Vila. How is he?"

"He's fine; and he made his own choices just like you made yours."

"Looks like he had the best part of the bargain."

Avon shrugged. "If you came here to indulge in some pathetic bout of self-pity, I think you should know better than that. Anyone but me, Blake."

Blake knew that; boy, how perfectly he knew that. The first sign of weakness and Avon would pounce and lash out at him, all cold contempt and icy cutting rage.

God, how tired he felt.

"Are you going to fall asleep on this table, Blake, or will you finally spill it out?"

Blake pushed the glass away and rested his elbows on the table.

"I will run for a third term, Avon. And it's not because of my… rabble as you so nicely called them. It's just that…"

Avon sighed and slumped heavily on the leather stool, looking down at the marble of the table.

"Don't. I know it all. It's just that you can't face it. You can't face the emptiness that would be your life if this… eminent job of yours wasn't there to fill it. You made it very clear that *I* couldn't fill it."

Blake hesitated.

"You're right," he said, "We both know you are. I'm probably unable to let go. But then, you knew it from the beginning, didn't you, Avon?"

"This was precisely why I left, Blake."

"But it was precisely why you wanted me in the first place, too."

That was a low blow and Blake saw anger build in Avon's dark eyes; before Avon could bare his teeth though, he said, "But there's something else."

And that shut Avon up; whatever he wanted to say lost for the moment.

"There has been some… unexpected activity on the borders of the galaxy. Ships cruising and gathering in distant systems. Taking a trajectory that would take them close to the most distant worlds of the Republic. Orac says that some of these ships have the same energy signature as those ones had years ago."

Avon went very still.

"Orac says so?"

"Repeatedly."

The silence seemed to stretch indefinitely between them, until Avon finally said "What do you want, Blake?"

"I want you back. I want you back on your own terms. No one works with me like you do and I'm ready to endure a lot to have you by my side when… if … the worst has to happen."

"Which is not certain."

"Which is not certain indeed. Still, if I have to lay some plans for the future and think again about the best ways to protect the galaxy, I'd rather have you by my side than anyone else, because you're the only one who's been through all of it with me. Honestly Avon, the others make me mad."

Avon gave a short dry laugh. "Vila makes me mad."

"Bring Vila if you need him," Blake said bluntly.

"He won't like the news. Is there any way I can connect to Orac and make my own opinion?"

Blake smiled. "Come back to Earth and you will."

Come back to Earth. Come back to me, Blake's eyes said.

"So. What will it be this time, Blake? False promises? Deceptive oaths of faithfulness? You'll be true? True to your word? True to *me*?"

"I always was true to you, Avon, when it mattered."

And even the sound of Avon's contemptuous joyless laugh erupting in the room didn't alter Blake's calm.

"How easily you manipulate the meaning of a simple word to make it fit your own ethics, Blake. You were never true to me."

"I love you Avon."

"And your vocabulary is still as poor as your imagination."

But Blake had thought about it a lot. How Avon would react – or rather, wouldn't. He'd expected the harsh words and the scorn, but not his own desire, burning high and strong from deep inside him. He refrained from reminding Avon that he, Blake, had been imaginative enough to dream a brand new world and make the dream come true.

Instead he just stood here, listening to Avon rant about every single one of his faults, taking blow after blow, hoping that he was reading Avon correctly: the more vulnerable he felt, the angrier he got.

"Will you think about it, Avon?" he asked when his host eventually had to take a breath.

The breath turned into a deep sigh.

"You do it so well. The thinking." Blake added, smiling, putting that lilt in his voice that always took Avon off guard.

It seemed a long time before Avon nodded tightly.

"I will leave then. Please don't let me in the dark for too long. If I have to go on without you, it will take some adjustments and a lot of alcohol."

There was a sudden rare smile on Avon's lips and Blake couldn't help it, had to ask.

"Kiss me goodbye?"

The kiss was… better than even the finest brandy. Not at once; at first it was merely Avon's lips brushing against his and a tentative hand on his shoulder. But that was enough for Blake and he pressed closer, pushed and invaded until Avon’s hold on him turned into a painful grip, until Avon had to throw his head back to moan some air into his lungs –Blake pulled his long-time lover, part-time enemy, full-time obsession closer and slid a knee between his thighs, rubbing. The kiss deepened, breath quickened while both men surrendered to lust.

****************

When Vila came back, Avon was sitting in front of the screen of his new computer, reading.

"Funny," Vila said "I heard a rumour about Blake being around."

Avon looked up and shrugged.

"He did come here."

"And honour our humble abode with his regal presence?"

"Don't turn all Alpha on me, Vila. It's pathetic."

"All right. So His Royal Highness was here. And when exactly are you leaving?"

"Ah, Vila. I'm not sure I'll leave."

Vila just stared at him for a moment then said: "So I suggest we celebrate."

"Because I'm not leaving?"

"That or because you are. Alcohol is good for anything."

Avon sighed, shut down the computer and turned to Vila who was looking at the bottle still standing on the table.

"Did Blake drink some?"

"Blake intends to run for a third term. Orac thinks there might be another alien invasion preparing. Andromedans perhaps."

"Sure. Or that could be Blake playing his last card."

"Or that. But I had access to Orac just minutes ago and there is indeed something. What, I can't quite say."

Vila poured the liquor—its amber lace swirling into the glass—then tossed it down.

"He'll need my expertise. You're welcome too."

"Oh no!" Vila said, "Not this time, Avon. I'll stay right here, if you don't mind. I'll look after the flat, keep it clean. Just in case Blake lets you down again. I’ll down your bottles… Have the place to myself. Invite whomever I want. T'will be great! I swear!"

The older Vila got, the harder it was to fool him, Avon thought. "I'm going to bed. Care to join me?"

……………..

It was a strange sensation, Vila mused much later, to fall asleep held tightly in the embrace of someone who'd be gone when you woke up. Gone for good. Damn Blake; the man just had to snap his fingers and Avon was running back to him.

Who did Avon think he fooled? Apart from himself?

Of course, Vila had never thought it would last, Avon and him; certainly not *two* years. But still… A man could get used to Kerr Avon in bed. He'd miss him.

So he might as well enjoy the moment and revel in Avon's warmth, bask in Avon's scent, Avon's breathing quiet against his neck. Fall asleep in it. For the last time maybe.

When Vila woke up just after dawn, the sheets were already cold and he was alone.


End file.
